


Haute

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 08:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20850194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Jim sees a model he has to have.





	Haute

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s the last show of the night, and it gets a standing ovation—Jim rises with the rest of his row to loudly applaud the designer that struts out onto the runway. The pounding beat of her techno music crescendos, punctuated by each click of her enormous heels. Her models follow behind her, emerging from backstage in one innovative creation after the next, displaying a cavalcade of colours, some of which boggle the mind and others that are borderline painful to look at. Having already witnessed the first walk, most of Jim’s peers have their eyes trained on the designer. But Jim’s waiting for one particular model to surface. 

He whistles when the Vulcan sets foot on stage. Noticeably taller than the Tellarites that come before and after him, the elegant man traipses forward with exacting posture, shoulders squared and gaze fixed forward, face utterly expressionless. His body works in perfect time to the music, giving the impression that his calculated walk is almost a robotic dance. The thick sweater he’s showing off has an elaborate pattern of carefully cut out ovals all over his body, displaying tantalizing hints of skin and the lines of his trim muscles. Despite the Kirk reputation, Jim usually has an eye more for clothes than the people in them. But this Vulcan speaks to Jim like an old fashioned Greek muse sent straight from the gods. 

His heart’s racing by the time the model disappears again, the music dying out as the show comes to its end. He can feel the thrill of _inspiration_ thrumming through him, his mind working overtime to dress the handsome stranger up in all kinds of concoctions. The Bolian host waltzes out onto the stage, but Jim hardly hears any of her words as the lights lift and chatter starts. He’s one of the first guests out of his seat.

Though the schedule has run its course, the event has hardly ended. Other designers, expensive buyers, and interested clients hover about the open theatre and spill into the lobby, mingling and circulating drinks as cameras flash. Normally, Jim uses these times to network, and he’s particularly good at it. He always cultivates a swell of business despite not yet having participated in any big-name shows. At the rate he’s going, he will in no time. But this night he only has one thing on his mind. 

He weaves through the crowd on a mission. There are plenty of familiar faces that he has to smile at or avoid, but he doesn’t stay for any conversations. It’s near the very front of the lobby, right on the way to the doors, that he finally spots the shiny black bowl cut he’s been looking for. 

He manages to catch the model right before the automatic doors can register their presence and open. Jim taps the model on the shoulder, though he knows it’s hardly kosher for a Vulcan, and then he’s extending his hand and offering, “Hi. Jim Kirk. I’m a new designer—you probably haven’t heard of me.”

The model glances at his hand but doesn’t take it. That’s alright; Jim just wanted to make the overture on the off chance he could get away with instant contact. But the model does stop and turn around to face him, answering stoically, “Spock. I have not.”

Unfazed, Jim fishes a card out of his pocket and passes it over. Spock pauses for a moment before tentatively taking it. He doesn’t put it in his own pocket, but rather stares blankly at Jim, clearly waiting for an explanation. Although, Jim would think he’s used to being stopped, because he’s _beautiful_.

He’s out of the attention-grabbing clothes he wore on stage, now in a simple v-neck top with a navy blue jacket and matching pants. The simple garb only makes it easier for Jim to mentally undress and re-dress him. 

He’s clearly not a man that beats around the bush, so Jim comes right out with it: “I want you in my show.”

Spock lifts one pointed eyebrow. He says nothing.

Jim pushes, “Normally, I’m on a budget; haven’t made it big yet. But I understand your rates might be out of that budget, and I’m willing to negotiate. I’ve got a gig in San Francisco in the fall that’s going to be pretty big, so I can at least promise you plenty of exposure. I’ve already got a decent following online, too.”

Spock looks neither impressed nor interested in Jim’s level of success. Instead, he says, “I only model vegan fabrics from designers that use ethical practices.”

Jim blinks. He fits into that, although he knows that’s not necessary always a given in their galaxy. He agrees, “Of course. I can promise that.”

Spock glances down at Jim’s card before returning his gaze to Jim and saying, “Very well. You may contact me for your show.” He doesn’t say how—Jim doesn’t even know which agency he works for. But as soon as Jim gets home, that’ll be the first thing he looks up. Someone like Spock can’t be difficult to find.

Spock finally pockets the card. He looks ready to leave, but before he can, Jim says, “So, now that that’s out of the way... what’re you doing with the rest of your night?”

Spock blinks. “Sleeping.”

“How’d you like to get a drink with me instead?”

There’s a hefty pause filled with the buzz of the several hundred other people behind them. As Spock doesn’t look entirely convinced, Jim adds, “I’d love to get your thoughts on the show and hear about your experiences; you’ve got a great walk, so I can tell you’ve been in the business awhile. I’m sure there’s a lot I could learn from you.”

Spock still looks unconvinced. But his eyes don’t leave Jim’s, and that has to be a good sign. Jim knows he can’t be the only one feeling the instinct attraction.

Then Spock surprises him and says, “You may buy me one drink.”

So, grinning, Jim does.


End file.
